It’s been less than six months since my daughter finished her year-long treatment with interferon. The needles, the sharps container, the smell of the alcohol wipes, that whole experience has quickly become a distant memory. At age four, it’s doubtful that my daughter will remember anything about it into adulthood. That’s wonderful, but at the same time, I want her to remember. I want her to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s always been a fighter. She’s always had courage beyond her years.
I didn’t want to rely just on my telling of the story. I hoped to preserve something that would capture her, the girl she is right now with the scratchy little voice who could talk about such big things.
We stand in awe of her amazing result, but just as amazing, just as awe-inspiring, is her tenacious spirit. We feel so blessed to call her our daughter.